One Life to Save
by Shinkarom
Summary: Edith Keeler was on the edge of forever. She would die in an car accident, if not the mysterious man. The author needs readers to find more apppropriate title. May be continued...


Edith Keeler just wanted to have fun. After the week of helping the poor, she needed to help herself. Of course, self-sacrifice gives you strength, but even in that case you'll want to have rest.

Not all of those bums she helped were the victims of the Depression; some of them were just parasites with no willing to work. Sometimes she asked herself, will the society decay, if such mood would prevail. Many of these people were simply unable to do any good: they would never save someone's life, except their own. Saving someone's life… For Edith Keeler this was the peak of human nobility. From time to time she thought about herself: would she become the person with limited point of view who cares only about her stomach. Edith had no definite answer to that question, and that frightened her.

But, just like Clara Clayton (_Author's note: if you don't know who Clara Clayton is, watch "Back to the Future Part 3"_) many years ago, Edith tried to concentrate on the good. The science was developing with constant acceleration, as was technology. The time when the man will reach for the stars is not far off. She sincerely believed in the brighter future that will bring peace, health and knowledge to the human race; the future worth living for.

Today Edith had no premonition of the danger. All the day trying to make people feel the beautiful in life (it had no effect; everyone was thinking only about his scoff) she decided to watch a movie. The movie had Clark Gable starring, and was about love. What irritated Edith was that even her only workers were infected with cynicism, denying love, poetry and everything that gives life its beauty.

She got dressed and came out. The nearest cinema in Brooklyn was three blocks away; with that small traffic on the street she expected to get there in half an hour. To start going she needed to cross the road first. There she would meet her end, but Edith knew nothing about the future. As we know, she had no premonitions about this evening.

Mr. McCoy, the strange man from the street, the only man with ideals she knew, was sleeping in his bed. He had a dream about the events that led him here. The ship had a period of turbulence, when he had seen the vision. Two of his friends see the young woman being killed by an object, and not only don't try to prevent the catastrophe, but turn their head away. But their eyes show that they knew about the accident earlier, and deliberately did nothing. "They are murderers! Killers! Assassins! They will kill everyone. But they won't get me!" – responded his sensitive heart. What happened next, McCoy did not remember. And now he was harbored by a beautiful young woman…

Stop! This is the woman from his dreams! And the disaster may happen anytime. "I must guard her". McCoy jumped out of bed. He ran downstairs to the exit. The woman was on the other side of the street. Having seen him, she waved her hand and started going back.

— Stay there if you want to live! — shouted McCoy. She did not pay attention to this sentence and continued going.

While Edith had no premonitions, the man, who often used his intuition in surgery, had them. He felt it was going to happen tonight and now. The street looked the same way as in the dream, and it was lit by lanterns the same way as the street he saw. So, without warning, he ran quicker. He came just in time to tackle the girl down, when she was in front of a car.

Edith Keeler could not believe in this. This man, whoever he was, seemed to have generated from the breed of heroes. Then she asked one question:

— Who are you, mister savior, anyway?

— What's more likely, I came to save you. — answered McCoy seriously.

He was right. The only great act he did while being on Earth was saving one young woman. Edith could not forget his heroism, and opened her heart to this man. But that's another story.


End file.
